Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1709, Chapter 1705: The Demise of Civilization

The wheels of this era were made by cutting thin tree stumps with stone axes. Maintaining a similar diameter required extensive processing, necessitating numerous tools and a large workforce. This explains the Obaid's astonishment at the wheels made by the Imperial Guard, complete with hubs, spokes, and other components. It meant that the "angels" were not only mysterious (due to their powered armor and weapons), powerful (due to their height and width), and intelligent (religious stereotypes), but also wealthy enough to lavishly use stone axes to craft these wheels. The Obaid were eager to know how this was achieved; no amount of religious worship could diminish their yearning for a better life, hence their plea to the High Priest.

The high priest graciously expressed his approval using a language and gestures they did not understand.

The elders of the Ubaid agricultural tribe (who were actually only in their thirties) believed these to be some kind of ritual symbol, possessing a sacred power, much like the writing they etched onto clay tablets with reeds or the patterns their ancestors drew in caves. Before the advent of true books in Mesopotamia, these elders were the most knowledgeable people in each agricultural tribe—they knew when to sow and when to harvest, how to select seeds, dig irrigation and drainage ditches, and how to domesticate animals, build houses, and even brew wine. Urged on by these treasures, considered the tribe's most precious assets, all the young Ubaid enthusiastically invited the high priest to stay overnight.

When Captain Miller woke up the next day, he realized he had made a huge mistake.

It wasn't because of the sawdust stuck in his head, nor because he was willing to teach these early civilizations techniques that surpassed our own, but because he realized he had underestimated them. While they lacked the vast knowledge future humans possessed in the information age, they were incredibly adept at certain social engineering techniques. Captain Miller was astonished to find that last night he hadn't even considered the potential consequences of teaching the Ubaid people techniques far more advanced than our own. This must have been related to the barley beer porridge the Ubaid women kept placing in front of him. This was the first time in his nearly fifty years of life he had received a bribe, and without his knowledge. Faced with this situation, he could only laugh and cry as he approached the Imperial Guard, asking if this influence would have a butterfly effect.

Hammurabi, who had been monitoring Captain Miller all night, lowered his head and looked coldly at the mortal.

Hammurabi already knew everything. The Custodians were still considering whether Captain Miller would do anything out of line, given his lack of respect for the Emperor; such a person wouldn't respect the rules. The Custodians generally had the highest priority, and Hammurabi could decide how things would unfold while ensuring the Emperor's objectives weren't affected. Captain Miller's talent and courage were indeed admirable, but training a qualified warship captain and space warfare commander only required time and resources; Captain Miller wasn't irreplaceable. In other words, if Hammurabi believed Captain Miller was seriously interfering with the plan, he could eliminate this disobedient mortal on the spot, and even the Emperor would approve of his actions.

"You have not heeded the Lord's warning."

Hammurabi's tone was icy. After spending several days together, Captain Miller had learned that these three-meter-tall super soldiers didn't possess many of the intense emotions that humans should have. "No, it won't have any impact. Since archaeology hasn't unearthed any technology beyond what should exist in the Ubaid era, it proves that the knowledge you're about to teach won't spread."

Captain Miller realized the implication in the Imperial Guard's words.

"You mean, they will... perish?" He suddenly felt a little hard to accept.

This was a group of warm and simple people. Although their methods of bribery were extremely clumsy, they were people who lived life earnestly. Even after just one night together, Captain Miller found himself genuinely fond of these humans. At least here, there were no inexplicable racial prejudices, and they didn't hold different views based on his skin color. Such incidents became less frequent as his social status rose, but he could still sense the disdain behind the friendly masks of Pentagon and White House officials, as if he were some kind of useful political tool rather than a human being.

"Is there anything we can do?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Human civilization does not continue through bloodlines, but through civilization itself. The extinction of a civilization means the extinction of a race."

This time, Hammurabi took it more seriously. This was his professional subject, and even though it was only a preliminary study of the enormous topic of researching the continuation of human civilization, he had already written no fewer than fifty professional papers on it.

"The Ottoman Turks learned art and politics from the Persians, and religion and science from the Arabs. The Palace of Wisdom is destroyed, but knowledge and culture continue to be passed down. I will use an example that you can intuitively understand, where your education in this area is lacking."

Although Captain Miller already knew Hammurabi had no intention of being sarcastic, he couldn't help but roll his eyes. However, he didn't receive the expected cold, straightforward answer or some obscure technical terms. Hammurabi used a very relatable example.

"Blues music is a combination of traditional music brought to the Americas by African slaves and traditional American white music; jazz is a combination of traditional African music and ragtime music from Missouri in the American Midwest; rhythm and blues is a combination of jazz, Protestant evangelical white music, and blues. Rock music absorbed blues, rhythm and blues, white country music, as well as jazz and European classical music."

"Is this supposed to be comforting? Why are you suddenly showing some humanity?"

"This is telling short-sighted mortals the truth about the continuation of civilization," Hammurabi said calmly. "Except for isolated island civilizations, every civilization will integrate with other civilizations to some extent. Civilization does not end; human civilization is the collection of all racial civilizations. The music that young people on the streets of London in the 1980s also contains genes from faraway Africa. Captain Miller, ancient civilizations will always be passed down through songs and stories. I suggest you pick up the data board I gave you last night and start learning; everything you need is there."

"Including manufacturing wheels?"

"Yes, including making wheels. You'd better hurry up and acquire all the knowledge you need; your short lifespan isn't enough to complete all the plans now."

"I don't know what your master's plans are." Captain Miller looked up, waving the data panel in his hand. "Do you know?"

The Imperial Guards did not answer.

The soft morning sunlight, accompanied by moisture evaporating from the damp soil, pattered against the golden armor, while the crimson robes swayed in the warm breeze of six thousand years BC. Captain Miller turned, squinting at the shimmering water on the distant horizon. Even standing here, he could still hear the roaring torrent of the Euphrates. Suddenly, he was speechless. Only now did he realize that he was truly standing on land never before imagined by the self-proclaimed civilized people of the 21st century. Eight thousand years from now, the Euphrates would not be as turbulent as it is today, and everything within his sight, and everything he had yet to foresee in the future, would be ravaged by time into a barren desert.

The flames of civilization are burning quietly on this land, soon to burst into their most intense flames. After the flames die out, only the ashes of civilization will remain, and future generations will only be able to understand these people through ruined houses and temples, broken pottery, and faded murals. This was the first time he felt the terror of time. He could no longer imagine the emperor's promise to take him back to the twenty-first century; even words engraved on stone would be worn away by wind, rain, and sand; nothing could possibly survive eight thousand years.

"How long can I live? Don't lie to me, Imperial Guard, your lying skills are too clumsy."

Even with his back to the Imperial Guard, Captain Miller still felt that Hammurabi's gaze could see right through him.

"You can see space again." Hammurabi, the Imperial Guard, spoke with a solemn expression on his marble-like face. "The reason the monarch chose to save you over Dr. Will is not just because Dr. Will was corrupted. The monarch admires your courage; humanity needs your courage to leave the solar system. This universe is dangerous; many unspeakable horrors will make many people fear the stars. If humanity loses its courage, the monarch's war against humanity's enemies will lose all meaning."

"A real alien invasion? I thought it was just a conspiracy theory." Captain Miller raised his eyebrows in surprise. "The wormhole that the Chitauri passed through opened on Earth, and almost all scholars believe that the Chitauri do not have the ability to invade again."

"When the Monarch saved you, an interstellar war was raging, humanity's first counterattack against alien invaders," Hammurabi said. "Alien invasions are not uncommon, Captain Miller. The Chitauri are not the only aliens in the universe that pose a threat to humanity. The Monarch will extend your lifespan, so do not try to extinguish your life force again. You will witness everything the Monarch says."

"and then?"

"And then, I hope we can become strong and kind people," the Emperor said. "I hope there will be no more races threatening humanity in this world, and that everyone can live in peace, in an environment free from oppression. But we are surrounded by malice, and war follows. But we must move forward; we must pay the price to fight for this future." The voice startled Captain Miller. He felt as if a star had fallen behind him, and even the literal, frozen air had become scorching hot. He felt himself begin to tremble, just as he had felt when he plunged into Neptune's atmosphere, dispelling the seemingly endless, now real, malice.

"Hammurabi?"

The Emperor lowered his head, looking into Captain Miller's eyes. "I see our future, and someone has to make sacrifices for it. I admit my weakness; I cannot ignore anyone who sacrifices for this future. I will savor every second of their lives and love everyone they love. You will decide whether to follow me on this thorny path, where a lifespan beyond human capacity is merely a tool to achieve our goal."

Captain Miller saw a lot, far more than language could express.

But he couldn't express it. He couldn't articulate what he saw in words, because it wasn't a crisis that could be described in a way that humans could understand. It was a threat from an evil abomination from another dimension that no intelligent being in the universe, not even the self-proclaimed "advanced" and "superior" civilizations in the Milky Way, could fully convey to another individual in any way that existed in the material plane. It was something that rational beings couldn't comprehend.

He began to feel fear, but not because of any terrifying threat.

That wasn't a nightmare for him; all his previous conversations with the Emperor had served as a prelude to this exchange. But his mind couldn't fully grasp the crisis—his ignorance saved his sanity—he only knew that the concept of time didn't exist in that terrifying dimension he had fallen into. When that dimension swallowed reality, the entire Earth, all of humanity, would be plunged into non-linear time, the causal relationships that intelligent beings used to perceive reality would cease to hold, and all human civilization would be destroyed.

The catastrophe was unstoppable; the destruction of humanity was an inevitable, direct outcome. There would be no survivors, no more Euphrates River to witness the rise and fall of human civilization, and not even the ashes of civilization would remain in this universe. He felt fear, but it was because of the Emperor. A visionary, a pioneer, a prophet. The Emperor had seen too much, endured too much, and his understanding was far ahead of its time—in the original 21st century, the seeds of disaster had already been sown. He knew that more and more humans around the world possessed "superpowers," and that these so-called "superpowers" were actually the influence of another dimension on the real world—but the Emperor could not tell everyone about the crisis they were about to face. Even knowing the concept carried the risk of corruption; uttering their names in reality would draw attention and bring disaster. While others were still basking in the glow of inexplicable surreal phenomena, even unable to see reality clearly, the Emperor had already seen the crisis hidden behind them.

Faced with a crisis that humanity cannot withstand, survival is the only option.

If survival is the goal, then the philosopher-king's dictatorship seems to be the most efficient method. All negotiation and debate are meaningless and unnecessary, the people's thoughts seem irrelevant, and the political game of compromise is unnecessary for the emperor's goals. Only rational decisions are required. Supreme power, long life, and endless wealth—these two things that others crave—are merely means for the emperor to achieve his ends. He doesn't care about what mortals should care about.

Captain Miller screamed inwardly, unaware that he was trembling and tears were streaming down his face uncontrollably. He realized that humanity simply didn't have the mental fortitude to bear such a painful reality; none of this should have happened, and no one should have to bear it. He couldn't oppose the Emperor's decision; no one had the right to demand that human civilization simply accept its fate and march towards destruction. Fortunately, he was still a long time away from that catastrophe. A time that was unimaginable to most people.

"We are on the countdown to our doom, Captain Miller," He said. "Eight thousand years must be used every second. Many plans need to be tested and cannot be used directly to deal with that future catastrophe."

"Emperor?" The mortal captain turned around with difficulty, staring directly at the perfect humanoid figure clad in golden armor. "What exactly are you...?"

There was no response; Hammurabi remained silent.